At a TouchDown Club meeting many years before his death, Coach Paul "Bear"
Bryant told the following story: I had just been named the new head coach
at Alabama and was off in my old car down in South Alabama recruiting a
prospect who was supposed to have been a pretty good th player and I was
havin' trouble finding the place. Getting hungry I spied an old cinder
block building with a small sign out front that simply said "Restaurant". I
pull up, go in and every head in the place turns to stare at me. Seems I'm
the only white fella' in the place. But the food smelled good, so I skip a
table and go up to a cement bar and sit. A big ole man in a tee shirt and
cap comes over and says, "What do you need?" I told him I needed lunch, and
what did they have today? He says, "You probably won't like it here, today
we're having chitlins, collard greens and black eyed peas with cornbread.
I'll bet you don't even know what chitlins [small intestines of hogs
prepared as food in the deep South] are, do you?" I looked him square in
the eye and said, "I'm from Arkansas , I've probably eaten a mile of them.
Sounds like I'm in the right place." They all smiled as he left to serve me
up a big plate. When he comes back he says, "You ain't from around here
then?" I explain I'm the new football coach up in Tuscaloosa at the
University, and I'm here to find whatever that boy's name was and he says,
"yeah I've heard of him, he's supposed to be pretty good" . And he gives me
directions to the school so I can meet him and his coach. As I'm paying up
to leave, I remember my manners and leave a tip, not too big to be flashy,
but a good one and he told me lunch was on him, but I told him for a lunch
that good, I felt I should pay. The big man asked me if I had a photograph
or something he could hang up to show I'd been there. I was so new that I
didn't have any yet. It really wasn't that big a thing back then to be
asked for, but I took a napkin and wrote his name and address on it and
told him I'd get him one. I met the kid I was lookin' for later that
afternoon and I don't remember his name, but do remember I didn't think
much of him when I met him. I had wasted a day, or so I thought. When I got
back to Tuscaloosa late that night, I took that napkin from my shirt pocket
and put it under my keys so I wouldn't forget it. Back then I was excited
that anybody would want a picture of me. The next day we found a picture
and I wrote on it, "Thanks for the best lunch I've ever had." Now let's go
a whole buncha' years down the road. Now we have black players at Alabama
and I'm back down in that part of the country scouting an offensive lineman
we sure needed. I forget the name, but it's not important to the story.
Well anyway, he's got two friends going to Auburn and he tells me he's got
his heart set on Auburn too, so I leave empty handed and go on see some
others while I'm down there. Two days later, I'm in my office in Tuscaloosa
and the phone rings and it's this kid who just turned me down, and he says,
"Coach, do you still want me at Alabama ?" And I said, "Yes I sure do." And
he says, "OK, he'll come". And I say, "Well son, what changed your mind?"
And he said, "When my grandpa found out that I had a chance to play for you
and said no, he pitched a fit and told me I wasn't going nowhere but
Alabama, and wasn't playing for nobody but you. He thinks a lot of you and
has ever since y'all met." Well, I didn't know his granddad from Adam's
housecat so I asked him who his granddaddy was and he said, "You probably
don't remember him, but you ate in his restaurant your first year at
Alabama and you sent him a picture that he's had hung in that place ever
since. That picture's his pride and joy and he still tells everybody about
the day that Bear Bryant came in and had chitlins with him. My grandpa said
that when you left there, he never expected you to remember him or to send
him that picture, but you kept your word to him, and to Grandpa, that's
everything. He said you could teach me more than football and I had to play
for a man like you, so I guess I'm going to. I was floored. But I learned
that the lessons my mama taught me were always right. It don't cost nuthin'
to be nice. It don't cost nuthin' to do the right thing most of the time,
and it costs a lot to lose your good name by breakin' your word to someone.
When I went back to sign that boy, I looked up his Grandpa and he's still
running that place, but it looks a lot better now. He didn't have chitlins
that day, but he had some ribs that woulda' made Dreamland proud and I made
sure I posed for a lot of pictures, and don't think I didn't leave some new
ones for him, too, along with a signed football. I made it clear to all my
assistants to keep this story and these lessons in mind when they're out on
the road. If you remember nothing else from me, remember this: " It really
doesn't cost anything to be nice, and the rewards can be unimaginable". ~
Coach Paul "Bear" Bryant ~ Editor's Note: Coach Bryant was in the presence
of these few gentlemen for only minutes, and he defined himself for life.
Regardless of our profession, we do define ourselves by how we treat
others, and how we behave in the presence of others, and most of the time,
we have only minutes or seconds to leave a lasting impression. We can be
rude, crude, arrogant, cantankerous, or we can be nice. Nice is always a
better choice. I like what Stephen Grellet, French/American religious
leader (1773-1855) said, "I expect to pass through the world but once. Any
good therefore, that I can do, or any kindness I can show to any creature,
let me do it now. Let me not defer it, for I shall not pass this way again.